You're the Only One Max Green That Died
by ThirteenthxFloor
Summary: Amy has one detesment, one enemy, one villian, one person she wishes was wiped off the face of the earth. His name was Max.
1. Chapter 1

**You're the Only One (Max Green) That Died**

**Chapter 1**

Piercing screams entered her ears as the loud guitar riffs echoed across the crowded venue. The room was filled with sweat, tears, and desperation. Though, Amy couldn't come to a valid conclusion as to why there would be desperation in the first place. The belting adolescent females around her cried with hysterical evidence, shoving and grabbing the person closest to them in the mosh pit. All around Amy, they all seemed to be determined to reach one objective: the stage.

"Move it!"

Amy turned slowly to her right to examine the victim of the angered voice. She wasn't surprised or shocked to see a young girl, probably around the age of fifteen, wearing a loose Iron Maiden shirt and vivid yellow skinny jeans. The makeup on her face was smeared drastically due to the perspiration in the room. Her hair, teased and colored a bright purple, was outstretched crazily around her pale face. Amy could never fully distinguish this peculiar style. Why so many girls wore childish colors and admired such characters as Hello Kitty, could be brought up to wear anything Iron Maiden; one of the most brutal heavy metal bands of the century. She wondered if they even knew anything song of theirs; disregarding Number of the Beast, of course.

Amy snapped her head away from the Iron Maiden girl, not wanting to appear as if she was staring creepily. The last thing she wanted was to get into a fight at a concert in which she didn't even appreciate the main act. A few days earlier, her friend Sara had introduced gleefully that she wanted to take Amy to a concert. Amy, being pessimistic and dreadful towards any form of rock appreciation, automatically denied Sara's offer. But, soon feeling guilt and regret, she soon agreed to accompany Sara at this now hectic party that was formally called a "concert."

Amy groaned uncomfortably around the chaotic teenagers. She awkwardly pulled her new satin skirt down, so it fit strict under her knees. She regretted wearing her most formal wear. Sara knew Amy had never been to a concert, let alone a rock concert, and failed to tell her that the attire should be causal, not like you're going to a job interview. Which is sadly what Amy was dressed similar to.

Her straight black skirt fit tightly around her thighs, leaving no room for any inappropriate exposure. She wore a loose-fitting white blouse, covered by a black shrug. Low heels rested under her sore feet. Her sinister dark brown hair was pulled loosely into a ponytail, leaving strands falling on her olive shoulder. Oh how she could murder Sara at this very moment.

Sara on the other hand, was in a more ecstatic mood than Amy was in. Her platinum blonde hair fell limply and wet around her shoulders, her excited blue eyes were rimmed with thick eyeliner, making her scarily resemble a raccoon. She wore a loose fitting band-tee with an unfamiliar name bearing on the front. Of course, in the darkness of the venue, Amy couldn't make it out. She noticed Sara wearing bright skinny jeans like the Iron Maiden girl, but hers were red. Sara was jumping around animatedly, throwing her arms in numerous directions.

Amy swiftly nudged Sara in the waist.

"What? What is it?" asked Sara with a loud voice. Amy knew she was too distracted in the musicians on stage to be showing her any regard. She hadn't even looked in Amy's direction.

"When is this thing over? My body feels like it's going to collapse soon." Amy shook her throbbing leg out to prove her point.

Sara snorted amusingly beside her. "Welcome to a mosh pit, tool."

Amy shot her friend a dirty glance, only to be returned an innocent smirk. "You didn't tell me this was going to be an animal house!"

Sara shrugged angelically, causing a few strands of her hair to fall in front of her shoulders. "Forgot."

Amy huffed impatiently and focused her hard glare onto the close stage. "Who are these guys anyway?"

Sara turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "I already told you; Escape the Fate."

Now it was Amy's turn to snort. "What an original name."

A guy next to her who was sporting a long red fringe glared at her with icy eyes.

Sara noticed this and nudged her. "Shut the hell up; do you want to find yourself in a hospital gurney?"

Any shook her head. "Spare me."

Throughout the rest of the droning concert, Amy stood as still as a statue while bodies danced around her. By the time the hour had passed, her hair was matted to her rosy cheeks, and she could feel sweat under her clothed arms. Her feet burned with intense pain and she wanted nothing more but to take her shoes off. But Amy didn't want to discover the disgusting trash and other unknown horrors found on the cement floor.

"Thank you, Chicago! You guys fucking rocked the show!" the lead man belted into the microphone, as more girls screamed in response.

Amy breathed with relief so immense, she felt as if she would cry with joy at any given moment.

"Finally," she murmured under her breath as people all around her moved tiredly to leave the venue.

"Aw come on, it wasn't that bad," Sara said smiling from beside her.

Amy gave her a look which caused the smile on her face to evaporate.

Sara rolled her eyes and grabbed Amy's arm hurriedly, dragging her towards the exit doors. Amy tried loosening her friend's grip, but she gave no avail. She was forcefully dragged through the lobby of the venue, and through the front doors which finally lead to freedom. She breathed with pleasure as her burning face was met with a dash of cold air.

"Where are we going, Sar?"

Sara smiled mischievously as she dragged Amy along to the deserted alley beside the venue. Amy could easily distinguish the smell of burning pot, and the sound of cracked laughter.

"What are we doing here?" Amy whispered harshly to her friend.

Sara easily ignored her question like the previous time, and only resorted into dragging her even deeper into the alley. Amy with weakness gave up struggle and decided to follow Sara. How bad could the situation end up anyway? No, she shouldn't mentally ask that question; she had asked it before the concert as well, and was met with sheer disappointment.

Amy heard Sara squeal with horrific delight, and she looked at her with curiosity. She was about to ask Sara why she was so excited when she came about the answer herself.

Against the wall lamp –lighted brick wall, was a huddled group of young men. They looked roughly around the age of twenty, and they all held similar cigars in between two shaking fingers. Amy recognized them immediately; the musicians of Escape the Fate. She inwardly groaned. Now she understood why Sara had dragged her all the way to this dreadful area.

"I knew they came here after gigs to smoke. Heard it from a friend," said Sara quietly, answering Amy's mental question.

The five guys slowly turned to the sound of Sarah's and Amy's approaching footsteps. Amy silently cursed herself for wearing high heels. Some of them smirked with slyness, the rest of them either raised an eye-brow or gave them a blank stare. Amy wished at this point to crawl into some black void and disappear from mortality.

"Fans..." the guy Amy recognized as the singer, said. His messy brown hair stood crazily on ends as his eyeliner crinkled as he grinned. His damp red shirt fit tightly around his slim finger, and Amy noticed he too was sporting skinny jeans; his were black.

The guy on his right smiled impishly; his eyes swarmed with excitement. Amy realized his nature unfortunately resembled the one of Sara. And also like her, he had a head thick of platinum blonde hair. In a weird way it suited him; in a weird way it didn't. He was wearing a tight sleeveless black shirt and black skinny jeans as well.

Amy automatically recognized the tall male beside him; he was of course the drummer of the band. He stood fairly above all the other members in height. He also carried a more original look, Amy noted. His hair was wildly curly, and fell long past his shoulders. And though it was pitch dark outside, dim sunglasses were perched on his face. She noticed with great shock, he looked almost identical to Slash, minus the top hat and platform boots. He was one of the guys that had raised an eyebrow at Amy's and Sara's entrance.

The next guy stood isolated against the wall, looking at the cigar between his lips as his fingers cupped the white stick. Amy thought he appeared the oldest and most mature out of the band. His face showed little youth, and she realized with relief that his style was tamer than the rest of the members. He wore a simple striped sweater and dark blue jeans. His face was stern and somewhat round, and she noticed his hair was short and light brown. She would rather associate with this guy, than the other members surrounding him.

The last guy Amy's eyes landed on caused her stomach to gorge. She despised him automatically. His eyes, green and harsh, were staring directly into her pupils. She forced herself to not gasp out loud. His pale face seemed to be made of pasty stone. His midnight hair hung limply around his face. His lips, pierced, were set into a strict straight line; they were so tight together they barely appeared visible. She noticed he too was wearing an Iron Maiden shirt like the girl back at the venue. And without surprise, his legs were surrounded by black skinny jeans. His stare remained blank.

"Welcome to the party," welcomed the singer, though Amy could make out the sarcasm from his every word.

Sara did a short squeal as she clapped her hands together in reflex. The guys noticed her excitement and quickly shared an amused glance with each other. Sara noticed this, and her smiled grew wider; she now resembled the Cheshire cat.

"You guys were unbelievable! I mean, Ronnie, your voice was just incredible!" Sara said with thrill as she looked directly at the lead.

But before Ronnie could reply with gratitude, Sara quickly moved her compliments over to the Slash look-alike. "Robert, your beats were epic! You didn't go off-beat once!"

But as before, she quickly turned on the platinum boy. "Bryan, your riffs are pure fucking ecstasy!"

She turned to the mature guy against the wall. "Oh Omar! Your chords sound as if they're being played in the studio!"

Amy mentally slapped her fore-head. She knew Sara was making a complete fool of herself, but of course, nothing could be done. Amy knew her friend worshipped this band like pregnant teens did to Maury Povich. She knew her mental analogy was scarily accurate.

"Max, Max, Max! You fucking own at bass!" Sara said resembling a kid experiencing serious sugar rush.

Max gave her a crooked smirk and nodded his head. "Thanks, doll."

Sara's face grew red at the pet name given to her by her favorite bassist. She quickly went to Amy's side and whispered in her ear. "He called me doll! Did you fucking hear that, did you?!"

Amy rolled her eyes with disbelief. "Calm yourself. You sound like you're high."

Sara squeezed her arm enthusiastically. "Oh, I am darling! High with love!"

Amy slapped Sara's arm firmly. "Get a hold of yourself, Trent." She knew using Sara's last name would calm her down.

Sara acted in accordance and ceased her highness. "Sorry."

Without one moment's hesitation, Sara turned back to the men that made up Escape the Fate.

"This is my friend, Amy," Sara said, pointing shortly to Amy beside her. Amy felt her face grow warm.

She quickly nodded at them, her eyes never leaving her heeled feet. "Heya."

Sara quickly chopped into the thick awkward silence. "She's not really familiar with your music. I dragged her to this concert."

The glances of the five guys quickly turned to amusement and interest.

"She hasn't, eh?" the guy known as Ronnie said with an egotistical smirk.

"I'm not one that takes a liking to music," Amy mumbled under her low breath.

"You don't like…music?" Bryan asked with wide brown eyes; he looked like a child who realized the non-existence of Santa Claus.

"I don't have time for it, really…" said Amy, droning off with hopelessness.

"That's bull-shit, honey. Everyone has time for music. It's what keeps us sane," explained Robert, his head staring at her direction. She knew that if she would see his eyes behind his dark lenses they would be filled with seriousness.

Sane? Never had Amy encountered such [in]sane people before. They were barbaric, lunatic, and wild. In no way, would she ever categorize them as "sane."

"Look. I just don't appreciate music, alright?" retorted Amy through her gritted teeth; she was finally becoming aggravated.

Sara laughed lightly beside her. "She doesn't necessarily mean that…she's not having a good night tonight," her friend said in her defense.

"Why, is it that time of the month currently?" the guy known as Max said with an insensitive smirk.

Amy whipped her direction quickly to that of Max's. Her brown eyes darkly and intently met his green eyes.

"That was uncalled for," Amy said with danger hidden in her voice.

The guy put his hands up sarcastically and rolled his eyes. "Sorry. Didn't know you women were so sensitive."

Amy snarled, her lips pulled back in a grimace. "I didn't know you egotistical pricks were so _**in**_sensitive."

Max's sarcastic grin quickly transformed into her identical snare. "What the fucks up your ass, sweetheart?"

"You are, you unsympathetic person." Amy quickly felt a warm rush of frustrated tears surrounding the lids of her eyes. She rapidly snatched her stare from his, turning her back on the male group. "I'll wait in the front, Sar."

Without hesitation, or a wait for her friend's response, Amy ruthlessly marched off to the front of the venue, and away from the imbeciles. As she grew farther away from the crowd, she could still clearly hear their voices.

"Aw, now why'd you have to do that, Green? You got her upset and shit," Bryan's voice exclaimed from a distance.

"Not my fault she's a control-freak," Max's voice said harshly in his defense.

The voices grew more mumbled and unrecognizable as Amy drifted toward the front of the venue. Amy's eyes grew wet with angry emotion. Her stomach was knotted with frustration, and her cold hands were balled into tight fists.

"The nerve of him..." she mumbled, feeling her throat getting clogged up with sentiment.

A few moments later, Amy heard the closing of scuffling feet. She slowly looked up, prepared to see the eyes of the villain, but was only met with the sympathetic irises of her close friend.

"He was rude Amy, I know," Sara said as she wrapped an arm around Amy's stiff shoulders. Amy felt a rush of relief and appreciation as she felt her friend's love melt the fury from her chest.

"He was," Amy said shortly, looking at her dark shoes.

"Ronnie gave me his number," Sara said with slight happiness, giving Amy's shoulders a quick squeeze.

Amy simply nodded. "Nice."

Amy looked up to meet Sara's knowing eyes. "If it makes you feel better, Omar and Bryan scolded Max for being such a git."

Amy smiled slightly with her currently chapped lips. "They did, eh?"

Sara chuckled and nodded. "Yeah."

And in silence, the two friends walked toward a parked and isolated taxi cab, eager to crawl into their own welcoming beds.


	2. Chapter 2

**You're the Only One [Max Green] That Died 02**

**Chapter 2**

Amy groaned with resentment as red light poured through her closed eyelids. The sound of distant bird chirps marked a sign that it was now early morning. Amy rolled over sloppily in her bed, causing her body to get entwined with the mint comforter. She lunged her head deeply under the pillow causing her eyes to be engulfed in a small dark cave. She wished nothing more than to stay put in this safe sanctuary, to be rid of all her life's stress.

Of course, her small significant wish wasn't answered, and was met with a brutal turn out.

Before Amy could even take her head out from under her pillow cave, a couple of loud and impatient bangs sounded on her front door. No doubt in her mind, she _knew _it was going to be her friend Sara standing on the other side, tapping one foot and observing her nail beds with mild curiosity. At this point in her heavy exhaustion, Amy could care less about answering the door to let her friend enter. All she wanted to do was remain in her bed and possibly snooze the rest of her life in deep slumber.

_Bang bang bang. _

Amy groaned loudly this time and rubbed her face against the softness of her cotton pillow. She knew Sara wouldn't cease her banging until Amy personally went to answer the door. Slowly and unwillingly, Amy turned her direction towards the alarm clock perched on the dark night stand beside her bed. The vibrant red digital letters read **8:30 am.**

"What does she _want..," _Amy said, her voice tired and croaky.

Amy could not configure the fact as to why Sara would possibly need her assistance this early in the morning. Even though the two were close, never had Sara barged at her door at the peak of the day. Not unless it was a drastic emergency. Amy new that it wasn't; she could _tell. _The reason being, Sara's bang on the door was loud, but in no way had it left any evidence of it being _urgent. _

_Bang bang bang._

"One minute…," Amy mumbled with her lips against her drool-marked pillow.

After a while, she gave up the use of trying to fall back to sleep, and grudgingly got out of bed. She lazily swung her legs over the side of the bed followed limply by her heavy head which was now bowed down in rest. She slowly lifted it up, and set her bare feet onto the hardwood of her bedroom floor.

The sharp coldness of the floor sent shocking shivers through her pajama-wearing body. The sudden temperature around her skin caused her to gradually awaken, though she still felt the great urge to crawl back into her heavenly mattress.

As Amy took her first steps across her bedroom floor, she felt a jolt of sudden soreness and pain, causing her to grunt.

"For the love…," Amy winced, rubbing her sore hips and painfully squinting her eyes shut.

She walked more cautiously, making sure to not make any drastic movements with her seemingly-crippled body. She felt like a leper. Moving one throbbing foot in front of the other, she came to realize the reason for her unexpected ache. _The concert. _The words rang in her head like warning signs, causing her face to warm up with frustration. The concert. In which she experienced impatience, anger, annoyance, boredom, embarrassment and near the end…_**anger.**_

As she approached the hall in which led to the living room and small kitchen in her condominium, the bangs on the door bit by bit got louder as the distance between her and the door closed.

_Bang bang bang. _

"I'm coming, already…," said Amy, whispering tiredly to the rattling door.

As soon as her pale hand turned the brass knob of the wooden door, Sara barged in the room, almost knocking Amy over in the process. Before Amy could fully turn to face Sara or find her balance, Sara started talking automatically.

"Do you _know _how long I've been standing there? _Twenty minutes!" _Sarah exclaimed, answering her own rhetorical question. Her black-painted fingers lay balanced on her skinny-jeaned hips.

Amy sent her a tired glare. "It's not even 9 in the morning, Sar! What the _hell _are you doing here?"

Sara's perturbed look automatically transformed into a sheepish grin. Without replying she day-dreamingly smiled up at Amy's white ceiling, and crossed her hands together over her chest. To add to her ditzy moment, she walked fairly and spun in circles, guiding herself into Amy's cluttered kitchen.

"Ronnie," whispered Sara, talking as if she was consuming some sort of heroin. Her blue eyes swam with admiration and excitement. Though this did not make Amy any less aggravated.

"_Ronnie?" _Amy exclaimed. _"That's _why you're here?!"

Sara gave her a guilty grin and engulfed her in a hug. Amy stiffened at Sara's unexpected action; never had she seen her friend so…_out if it._

Giving Amy one last squeeze, Sara let loose of her. Amy watched with annoyance and mild amusement as her friend danced around the tiled kitchen floor before finally pluming down on one of the high stools surrounding the table.

"Oh Amy, I couldn't stop thinking about him last night!" exclaimed Sara, resting her head on the palms of her hands. "It's like…he was imprinted into my skull, or something."

Amy raised an eyebrow at her friend. "Sar, you just met the guy last night."

Sara stood up straighter at this comment, her eyes swarming with defense and delight. "But I've known _about _him for so long! And the way he talked to me last night…oh Amy I couldn't stop _smiling_. I probably looked like such a fool."

Amy automatically put on her friendly façade. "Oh _no, _you looked anything but a fool last night, Sar. I saw the way the lead was looking at you," said Amy, sending a playful wink.

Sara bit her nails impulsively. Amy could see her cheeks turning a mild rose shade and her legs were bobbing up and down on the rest of the stool. "Really? He was _really _looking at me?"

Amy inwardly rolled her eyes. Yes, the singer had been looking at her, but not with the same reasons as Sara probably assumed Amy meant. The singer, Ronnie his name was, had looked at Sara almost _hungrily, _which Amy had noticed with great detest. She didn't like the fact that a random musician was studying her friend as if she were a piece of steak.

"Oh, yes." Amy replied, making her way willingly to the white refrigerator.

She hadn't eaten since yesterday morning, and at that time she had only consumed a bowl of Special K cereal. She hadn't felt like eating much before the concert yesterday; her stomach was heaving too much nervousness. But at this very moment, all her stomach pleaded for was for any food whatsoever, and Amy was quite eager to satisfy its needs.

She opened the fridge door forcefully, sticking her head into the cold atmosphere.

"You want anything?" she asked Sara, not even bothering to turn away from the multiple items stored inside the refrigerator.

"Got any juice?" asked Sara from behind the table.

Without turning around, Amy nodded swiftly while grabbing a half-empty (or half-full as the optimists would say) cartoon of Vitamin C and placing it on the granite counter beside her. She quickly dove back in the fridge and grabbed the cartoon of Skim milk while placing it symmetrically to the juice.

Amy made her way to the cupboards above the black stove, and grabbed a drinking glass and a blue bowl. She poured the liquidly orange substance into the glass and quickly set it in front of Sara's thirsty eyes.

"Thanks," Sara said shortly before dunking her mouth greedily into the glass.

Amy just shook her head and lightly chuckled as she made her way to the pantry beside the stove. When she opened the narrow wooden doors, she saw her jumbo Special K cereal box and snatched it from the middle shelf. Pouring the browned flakes and milk into her bowl, she settled herself across from Sara and slumped down on a stool.

They ate in comfortable silence for a while. Amy pondered her current situation and how she got here; her condominium on a crowded street in Chicago. Amy was currently eighteen years old, and in her remaining year in high school. Her parents were psychology professors and taught at Queen's University in Kingston. Of course, they hadn't always taught there. They used to reside in The University of Chicago, up until Amy was seventeen. That was when they found that they had been promoted to teach at one of the best universities in Canada instead. Amy of course, living in Chicago her whole life and being so immensely attached to it, refused to move. After great unwillingness, her parents finally agreed to let her stay at home. They of course told her she needed to get a job, possibly loans. She knew she would eventually be in debt, but she could care less; Chicago was her home.

So here she was, a girl of eighteen living on her own in a cluttered yet comfortable condominium, only accompanied by furniture and her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She wouldn't have it any other way. And as an addition, Sara would pop in almost regularly, just to either check up on her or to spend the night with.

Amy worked with Sara at the same music and record store; Music Land. It was convenient for Amy since it was only a few blocks from home and she could easily transport without paying for a taxi. Her pay was pretty fair, seeing as she worked numerous amounts of days during the week after school. Her and Sara had worked their since they were sixteen, and they both had found a strange comfort within the place of music.

Amy found it ironic at times though, to work in a music store when she had no regard for any form of music at all. But it was close in location and the pay wasn't half bad, so she diminished any selfish thoughts and continued to work whole-heartedly at Music Land.

And now, here she was, eating a stale breakfast with her best friend in a condominium in down town Chicago. Everything seemed in place for her, until her thoughts drifted to yesterday...

"_What the fucks up your ass, sweetheart?"_

Those were the words that egotistical punk had spoken. That prick, who appeared as if he owned the universe itself; the prick who appeared he was superior to all living kind; the prick who had icy depths; the prick, Max. Amy had regretted accompanying Sara to that concert; she regretted it with so much force, she knew she rather would have had a local root-canal operation without anesthesia, rather than relive that horrible moment. But she didn't need to worry; she wasn't going to see that bastard anytime soon.

She noticed with questioning eyes that Sara was fidgeting with her hands while looking intently at them. Amy raised an eyebrow at her nervous actions.

"What's wrong, Sar?" asked Amy with serene concern.

Sara shook her head, dismissing Amy's question of worry. "Nothing."

Amy snorted. "Spit it out, Trent."

Sara sighed and her blue eyes slowly traveled to Amy's dark ones, looking at her with plead.

"I invited Ronnie over."

Amy stood up so suddenly, the table shifted slightly and her stool fell limp against the kitchen floor. "You did _what?"_

Sara attempted at giving Amy her best smile, but when Amy's eyes clouded, the smile disappeared.

"Well…he told me to call him, to see if he was busy," explained Sara, playing with her multiple bracelets. "And so, while I was waiting for you to open the damn door this morning, I called him and asked him if he was free."

Amy crossed her arms in frustration. "Then what did you say?"

"After he told me he was free, I invited him over."

Amy's breath caught short in her throat, the room in an instant appeared smaller. "That crack head is going to be inside _my house…" _

Sara stood up immediately and went to Amy's side, squeezing her arm as she often did. "Don't say that, Amy. He's a nice guy."

Amy frowned unconvinced at her friend. "Can't say much for his companions."

Sara's eyes turned guilty immediately. "About that….."

Amy snatched her arm back from Sara's grip and snarled. "What are you getting at?"

"Well Omar and Robert went to see some action movie together, leaving Ronnie and the others alone….and bored."

"Go on," Amy groaned while burying her face in her hands.

"So when I invited Ronnie, he automatically asked if he could bring along Bryan and Max," explained Sara. "And you know I couldn't say no…."

"_Max_," Amy gasped between her palms. "_In my house."_

Amy instantly felt Sara's fingers on her shoulders, a sign for her to calm down. "I'm sorry Amy, if I would've known you were going to respond like this…"

Amy snapped her head up and plastered a false smile on her face. "No no, it's fine. " She straightened herself out and patted down her now wrinkled pajama top. "Just fine."

Amy received a quizzical look from Sara. "Are you…sure?"

She nodded her head perkily to Sara's response. "Yes. Because I can't be bothered by those insane humans if I'm not here."

Sara's posture straightened up at her friend's words. "What do you mean _not here?"_

Amy smiled with confidence and gently picked up her fallen stool that was now on the floor.

"What I mean is, when they come over, I won't be here. Simple as that."

Sara's eyes widened with realization and horror. "You…you can't leave me _alone _with them."

Amy raised an eyebrow slightly. "Oh? I thought you enjoyed their company."

Sara quickly put her hands up in defense. "I _do!_ But can you imagine how awkward it would be if I'm alone in the house with three young adults?"

Amy shrugged her shoulders lightly. "That's why cable was invented."

Sara groaned and slumped her shoulders. "_Amy_, come on! I don't want to spend time with them by watching some reality show! And what if they get hungry? I can't cook for my life, and you know it."

Amy smiled at her friend. "There is a thing called _take out."_

"But I don't have any money!"

Amy's smile faltered. "Sara, stop making excuses."

Sara put her hands on her hips. "_You're _the one with the constant excuses!"

Amy turned her back to Sara and stared at the television set from across the room. "Oh please."

Sara sighed. "Amy, do you realize you're making them drive you out of your _own house?"_

Amy snapped back to look at Sara. "That's not true!"

Sara raised an accusing eyebrow at her.

Amy sighed. "I just can't _stand _them. I mean, I've never met any guys, or people for that matter, who are so conceited."

"You just met them yesterday," explained Sara. "Why don't you just give them a chance?"

Amy's eyes quickly darkened. "That Max doesn't need a second impression for me to figure out what kind of guy he is."

Sara looked sympathetically at her. "Okay, he is a bit of a…jerk. But come on, what about Bryan? "

The corner of Amy's lips rose. "You know, he kind of reminds me of you. He's an interesting character."

Sara grinned. "_See?"_

Amy sighed in defeat and shook her head. "Fine. I'll stay. But _only _because I don't want to feel as if they're making me leave my own home."

Sara jumped slightly into the air while clapping her hands rapidly. "Thank you!"

Amy shook her head and suppressed a grin. "Yeah, yeah."

Amy was on her way to her room when awareness crept up on her. "Sara..."

Sara looked at her friend with question. "Yeah?"

"What time are they supposed to be coming over?"

Sara's eyes widened slightly as she plunged her hand deep in her pocket to grab her phone. After she flipped it open, she looked at Amy with panic.

"Half an hour."

Amy inhaled an immense intake of oxygen. "_It's only 9 o'clock!"_

Sara's once excited eyes now swam with a hint of guilt and embarrassment. "I thought we were going to be ready earlier."

Amy shook her head slightly. "Don't worry about it. Just…plan ahead next time."

And with my consent, Amy thought mentally.

And with that, Amy reluctantly went back into her bedroom to get rid of the night wear she was currently attiring. She made her way briskly to her closet, and opened the doors open with force. Without fully observing the clothing in her jumbled closet, she randomly grabbed a pair of jeans and a floral white and green tank top.

When she was fully dressed, she made her way to the bathroom. She quickly splashed icy water on her face in a hurry, and brushed her teeth vigorously.

She hated rushing. Amy was always one to enjoy and savor her time, not feel as if she was in military counseling. Her stomach compressed with dread as she thought of the company she was soon going to encounter. Her head was swarmed by dismayed thoughts…dismayed thoughts of _them._

After she attempted to tame her out-of-bed hair, she left the bathroom and went to join Sara who was situated on the sofa watching a repeat of Two and a Half Men. Amy slumped dramatically beside her, causing Sara to yelp in surprise and fright.

Amy chuckled victoriously.

"That wasn't amusing, Sturgis," Sara said with a frown, calling Amy by her last name.

Amy flinched at the unattractive name. "Please refrain from calling me that."

"Only if you refrain from sneaking up on me unexpectedly," retorted Sara.

Amy nodded and stuck out her hand jokingly. "Deal."

"Deal," repeated Sara, shaking Amy's outstretched hand.

_Bang bang bang._

Amy's grin was suddenly wiped clean of her face as she heard the terrifying sound. "_Already?"_

Sara leaped off of the couch with a squeal. "Behave, please."

Amy rolled her eyes and got off the couch. "Yes, mother dear."

Sara ignored her retort and made her way hurriedly to the front door. Before she opened it, Amy saw her fixing her hair absentmindedly.

"Just answer the damn thing, your hair looks fine," said Amy with slight impatience.

Sara gave her a quick frown before unlocking the door and opening it with a satisfying _click. _

Amy saw Green first, wearing a usual black t-shirt with his usual black painted-on pants. His hair looked as messy as it had been the night of the concert, proving that he didn't need to act crazy in order to obtain chaotic hair. His eyes were also the same from the previous night; harsh and secretive.

Next walked in Ronnie, wearing his trade-mark narcissistic smirk. He was wearing a dark blue shirt which seemed to be ripped at various places across his torso, revealing some skin. Amy noticed this with revolt.

The Bryan guy walked in last, a childish grin plastered on the centre of his face. He was wearing a red t-shirt, and thankfully, it wasn't ripped. His presence seemed the most modest out of the rest of the group, giving Amy a feeling of slight relief.

"Glad you could make it, guys," said Sara, her eyes dancing with life.

Ronnie walked directly in front of her and gave her a twisted grin. "It was our pleasure."

Sara's usual pale face splattered deeply with a rose shade. Amy resisted the urge to groan with reluctance.

"Yeah, we were dead back on the bus," replied Bryan. "Max was almost starting a conversation with his cereal bowl."

This reply caused Max to lazily give Bryan a firm slap in the back of the head. "Liar."

Bryan shot him a nasty stare. "What was that for, dick head?"

Max shook his head and looked at the ceiling. "My amusement."

Bryan crossed his arms like a child. "Tool."

Ronnie stepped into their quarrel, like a father stopping his children from fighting. Though, Amy couldn't picture Ronnie being even _close _to a paternal figure.

"Grow up you guys, honestly," he turned to Sara with a slight hint of apology. "See what I have to live with?"

Sara chuckled animatedly. "I'm sure they're not that bad."

Ronnie snorted repulsively. "Wrong, doll."

Despite Ronnie's disagreement, his nickname for her caused Sara to blush once again. Amy extremely wanted to question her friend's sanity.

Without warning, Bryan's eyes snapped to Amy's direction, as if realizing her presence for the first time. "Oh, hey there. You were the no-appreciation-for-music chick from last night."

Amy squinted her eyes slightly in a pissed off manner. "That was me, yes."

As if Bryan noticed her defensive look, his facial expression evolved into friendliness. "That's alright. Everyone to their own, I guess."

Amy's eyes grew bigger with shock. "Yeah….exactly."

Bryan smiled and nodded at her.

"Oh yeah," piped in Ronnie with his loud voice. "I remember you. You were that chick who pissed off this kid," he said pointing to Max.

Max sent him a glare. "Pissed me off? I wasn't affected whatsoever."

Amy turned her dark gaze on him. "That's typical. Not affected by any means other than yourself."

Amy heard Sara groan beside her.

"What are you saying?" snarled Max, turning on her, his green eyes turning into hard stones.

"You're selfish, is what I'm saying."

"And you're an emotionless bitch."

"I think you've mistaken me for yourself, seeing as _you're the_ one who's emotionless!"

"No, you're wrong there, sweetheart. As long as I _appreciate music, _I'll have feeling."

"So because I don't take a listen to your foolish _noise _I have no feeling?"

"That's exactly what I mean."

"Stop it!" yelled Sara, physically getting in between the two arguing young adults.

Amy exhaled the breath she was holding, and she stomped off to her bedroom, hands into fists at her sides. When she entered her safe sanctuary, she grabbed a random book that was perched on the black book shelf next to her window, and took it to her bed. She lay down in a comfortable position before opening the book to the first page. She noticed her book of choice was Rose Madder by Stephen King. Without wait, she started reading, eager to escape her irritating reality.

_She sits in the corner, trying to draw air out of a room which seemed to have plenty just a few minutes ago and now seems to have none. From what sounds like a great distance she can hear a thin whoop-whoop sound, and she knows this is air going down her throat and then sliding back out again in a series of feverish little gasps, but that doesn't change the feeling that she's drowning here in the corner of her living room, looking at the shredded remains of the paperback novel she was reading when her husband---_BANG!

Amy sat up with a panicked start, her heart thudding rapidly in her chest. The startling noise had come from the kitchen; she knew that as a fact.

Instantly, with her Rose Madder book still in her hands, she rushed out of her bedroom, dashed down the hallway, and sped to the kitchen. The scenery in front of her caused her breath to go short.

"W-w-what…_happened?" _gasped Amy, her free hand which wasn't holding the book, went straight to her chest.

The room, which was pleasantly clean a few hours before was now mostly covered in melted cheese. The counters, the table, the floor, and part of the ceiling now held an orange and white substance. The microwave's door had a dark hole in it, causing Amy to see its disgusting oozy insides.

Sara walked guiltily in front of Amy. "Well….we were hungry…and you know I can't cook---

"Why didn't you ask me to cook something?" Amy asked with sternness shooting from her voice.

"Well, you seemed upset when you went off to your room…so we didn't want to bother you," Sara said, her eyes wide with fault.

Amy pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers and exhaled. "How did this happen….to my kitchen?"

Sara swallowed her existing saliva and answered. "Well, we saw your package of Pizza Pockets in the freezer…and they looked pretty easy to make…"

"It was Max's fault," Bryan chirped, appearing to not want Sara to take the blame.

Max shot him an icy glare. "What the _fuck."_

Bryan shrugged. "She was going to find out anyway, man."

Bryan looked at Amy and continued. "Max decided it was okay to cook the Pizza Pockets _while they were still in the package."_

An empty can of Coca-Cola zoomed straight into the side of Bryan's platinum head, causing him to yelp and touch his hair. "What gives, Green?"

"You were asking for it."

Amy turned to Max with vengeance. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

Max growled at her with detest. "All because you have some book in your hand you feel the need to comment on my stupidity?"

Amy raised an eyebrow at him. "Not at all actually. Just your _brainless _actions seemed to prove enough."

"You're a fucking geek."

"Because I'm reading a book?" Amy asked sarcastically. "It's called having intelligence."

"It's called having no life."

"And you think your life is better than mine?" Amy asked while glaring daggers.

"I _know _it, sweetheart," Max replied, approaching her with vengeance.

"I think you should leave," Amy replied pointing at the front door to her left.

"Was just about to," replied Max, storming off towards the front door. He forcefully opened the door, and walked out without a backwards glance.

"_I'll meet you guys in the fucking bus!" _was all they could hear from the hallway. Ronnie and Bryan looked at each other and shook their heads knowingly.

"We should head out," stated Ronnie looking at Sara and Amy. "Max gets impatient."

"Who fucking cares what he thinks?" mumbled Amy under her breath.

Bryan, apparently hearing her comment, chuckled lightly. "Believe it or not, he's decent at times."

"I'll believe it when I see it," replied Amy, turning to Bryan.

Bryan shrugged and gave her a pat on the shoulders. "Sorry about the kitchen by the way."

Amy shook her head shortly. "Don't worry about it, Sara will help me clean it later."

Sara groaned beside her. "Seriously?"

Amy nodded. "A lesson given is a lesson learned."

Sara grunted. "You really need to stop reading clichés."

Amy smiled at her amusingly. "When the Earth stands still."

Ronnie approached Sara. "Thanks for hanging, it was much more…._entertaining _than our bus." He then looked at Amy. "Thanks for the hang out. Sorry about the kitchen."

Amy simply shook her head in dismissal.

"See you later then?" Sara asked Ronnie with hopeful eyes.

Ronnie smirked at her and nodded. "For sure, babe."

With a final wave to Sara and a smile to Amy, Bryan walked out the door, soon followed by Ronnie.

"I think that was enough hanging out for one day," said Amy, turning to her poor distorted kitchen.

Sara smiled and shook her head. "Nah."

Amy ignored her and picked up a paper towel.

"Time to clean up this dump."


	3. Chapter 3

**You're the Only One [Max Green] That Died 03**

**Chapter 3**

A few uneventful days soared by Amy's reality since the previous encounter with the "psychos." She and Sara had mostly hung out at her cluttered condominium, with the exception of school of course. Lately, Amy had been receiving a ridiculous amount of homework, and she found it acceptable, since the end of the year exams were soon approaching.

Sara on the other hand, did not take a liking to this homework as Amy did, and she would constantly remind Amy of her thoughts on how unfair academic achievement was.

"Honestly, how relevant are mathematic parabolas for our future life?" Sara moaned one afternoon at Amy's stuffy apartment.

Amy shook her head hopelessly at her friend. "You need to broaden your mind more, Sar. Parabolas can be used for lots of things."

Sara raised an eyebrow disbelievingly at her friend. "How so?"

Amy smiled slightly and began her response of knowledgeable intellect. "Well, a scientist who explores a mountain, for example. If they need to measure the feet above sea level, they could easily substitute a parabola equation, and distinguish the answer."

Sara rolled her eyes and threw her book lazily on the floor. "You're too smart for your own good."

Amy smiled; though she knew those words weren't close to being compliments. "Blame genetics."

Sara shot her a crooked grin. "True say. I wish my parents were psychology professors."

The side of Amy's lips pulled up in a curve. "No, you really don't. They were always too busy with their marking and such to spend any good length of time with me."

Sara gave her a sympathetic look. "Yeah, I remember. In middle school, when it'd be Parent's Day, your parents would always be absent. A shame too, I would have loved to learn how their job works."

Amy snorted and raised an eyebrow at her. "Seriously? _You'd _actually want to hear that?"

Sara frowned in defense while flipping a page in her Math textbook. "Yes, I'm not that mentally impaired, you know."

"Could've fooled me."

Amy soon felt the hardness of Sara's Math book collide with the left side of her skull. "_Ow!"_

Sara smiled innocently and shrugged while looking at her nail beds. "You asked for it, sweetheart."

Amy glared at her but soon broke out in a grin. "I can't deny that."

Sara laughed comically. "Now hand me my book back, thanks."

Amy mentally shook her head and tossed the book back—more forceful than necessary. Sara glared at her and snatched it back into her blue jeaned-lap. The two of them continued studying for their upcoming factoring test, though Amy would occasionally catch Sara drifting off blankly into space or playing with her chipped nails. After a few more minutes of watching Sara act zombie-like, Amy slammed her book shut.

"Okay, what's wrong?"

Sara opened her mouth to reply, but Amy beat her to it. "And don't say '_nothing', _because you and I both know that's bull."

Sara sighed as she closed her book and rotated her body to face Amy's on the living room floor. "It's Ronnie."

Amy's stomach clenched at the forbidden name. "Ronnie? But, you haven't seen him in days."

Sara grunted. "_Exactly! _It's like he's been wiped off the face of the Earth or something."

Amy looked at her friend sternly. "Come on, you're overreacting Sar."

Sara shot her a look. "Am not. He hasn't called me or anything! And he specifically said he'd talk to me _later. _Well, later has passed!"

Amy smiled amusingly at her friend's torment. "You realize you sound like a love-crazed teenager, right?"

Sara looked at her through slit eyes. "That's because I _am _one! All because you've never been-

Sara cut her sentence short as she saw the pain flicker across Amy's pale face.

Amy looked down at her fingers. It was true; her friend's accusations weren't false. Never had a guy sparked interest in Amy's bland life. Sure, some were considered attractive in her eyes, but that was never enough to nudge her. Not close. They were either too...dull in the mental area, or they displayed a sense of arrogance, both in which Amy detested. She was eighteen, and remained one of the only girls in her grade to have never attracted male affection. Though, she would survive. Her studies were her first priority after all.

"I'm sorry Amy…you know I didn't mean it," Sara said, reaching to squeeze Amy's shoulder as an apology.

Amy waved her hand in dismissal. "Don't worry about it."

Sara's eyes deepened with pity. This was a look Amy either felt gratitude towards, or awkwardness.

"It's just he makes me feel so…..I don't even know. I must sound stupid right about now." Sara said, playing with her fingers.

Amy offered her a tiny smile. "Yeah, you do. But that's why I love you."

Sara snorted. "That was cheesy dude, and you know it."

Amy burst into fits of laughter. "Y-yeah."

The two friends both lay on their sides, clutching their ribs with short gasps of laughter. Their faces were identically a mild pink and tears of enjoyment swam down their cheeks. The girls were still suffering from laughter when the phone rang.

Like a grenade had exploded among their peaceful laughter, both girls stopped abruptly and sat up wearing symmetrical expressions of shock and skepticism. They looked at each other with a raised eyebrow; Sara's expression was excited, Amy's was grim.

Sara clapped her hands eagerly while leaping off of the floor, causing the Math book which was once on her lap to fall limply to the ground with a _thud. _Before the phone could shrilly ring for the fourth time, Amy watched with curiosity as Sara picked it up.

"_Hello?" _Sara said breathlessly. Without warning a huge smile broke out on her animated face. She shot a quick look of delight at Amy on the floor.

Amy knew by instant recognition that the person on the phone would be Ronnie. Though, her mind pondered how he came about her house number. _Sara. _Amy didn't doubt that Sara gave Ronnie her own house number, seeing as she often came here. Studying the gleeful look on her friend's face as she waved her hands about with life, Amy knew who was on the other end of the line, talking back in a raspy deep voice. A voice that sounded like it had consumed one too many cigarettes.

"Okay. Okay, awesome. Later!" Sara slammed the black phone down on the receiver with a beam.

"Who was that?" Amy asked with disinterest, having a gut feeling she already knew the answer to her own question.

Sara's glee soon mirrored innocence. "Just my mom, nothing new."

Amy raised a distrusting eyebrow at her friend. "Your _mom?"_

Amy watched as Sara plumped herself down on the hardwood floor of her living room. "Yeah. Why?"

Amy shrugged with sarcasm. "Oh I don't know. You just seemed a little…_excited."_

Sara nodded promptly and her eyes were covered with calmness. "I know. She just finished telling me how she found me a memory card worth 60 gigs! 60! That's rare to find you know."

Amy shook her head at her friend with extensive eyes and let out a chuff of hesitant breath.

"Are you going to tell me, or will I be forced to yank it out of you?"

Sara's lips broke apart, causing her white incisors to show fully. "Fine….it was Ronnie."

Even though Amy had known the answer that was to come, she couldn't help but feel disappointed at her friend's words. For a small period of time, Amy had somewhat believed that the boys of Escape the Fate would be a mere memory again. Her belief however, was now banished.

Amy looked down at her Factoring text book, studying its numerous equations. "I see."

Amy heard her friend sigh in defeat. "Come _on _dude! He's really not that bad. You don't him well."

That caused Amy to shoot her stare from the text book to Sara. "And you do?"

Sara's crystal eyes were now covered with frustration and fury. "As a matter of fact, I do!"

Amy stared at her friend hard, her face burning with irritancy. She leapt off the floor, her feet seemed glued to the hardwood and her hands were clenched by her hips. "You've known the guy for three days! _Three days! That's not love!"_

At this retort, Sara copied Amy's posture as she bounded off of the floor. "You wouldn't know what love was if it hit you in the face!"

Amy's mouth gaped open in hurt and splitting silence. At her friend's piercing words, she felt no evidence of a comeback. Her central nervous system had run dry.

"A-Amy, I didn't---

Amy shook her head as she went to grab her house keys from the kitchen counter. She proceeded to the coat hanger and grabbed her red spring jacket. Before she opened the front door to her own apartment, she turned to her confused friend.

"You know what, I don't care anymore. If you want to hang out with Ronnie, that's your choice. Just don't expect me to sit around and watch. I'm going for a walk."

With that Amy turned the golden knob, and before her friend could reply, she stepped out and slammed the door. She was soon met with the sight of her bland apartment hallway. Numerous of green apartment doors stood side by side, supported by a nauseating tanned carpet. Unfortunately, the walls held the same colour as the floor.

As Amy walked slowly down the darkened hallways, she couldn't help put ponder the previous argument her and Sara had shared.

_You wouldn't know what love was if it hit you in the face._

Those simple yet stinging words kept repeating themselves into her mind. No matter how many times she mentally would shake them away, they always managed to reappear cunningly. Amy knew Sara didn't mean to spit them out; she was frustrated. She also knew that if she stuck around longer, Sara would have apologized.

Ignoring the blinking elevators on her floor, she passed by them distractedly and headed for the doors that lead to the staircase. As Amy started climbing down the stairs, a horrible aroma ran up her nostrils. Pot. No matter how many months have passed, the cemented and rusty staircase never ceased to smell like a drug-junkie hangout. Despite the fact that the rest of her apartment building seemed decent and welcoming, the stairs had a history of their own.

As Amy opened the first level doors that guided her outside, she was thankful as fresh air greeted her. She deeply inhaled the natural smell, and continued walking down the crowded Chicago sidewalks. A strong gust of wind danced around her, causing her dark hair to stretch around her pale face wildly. Amy clutched her red jacket securely, regretting the fact that she wore her knee-length pencil skirt and heels. Today was obviously not the time for such attire.

Multiple cars honked and people talked rapidly into their cell phones around her. In spite of the rushed noise, Amy kept her glance forward and looked toward her main objective; Grant Park.

The scenery of the park ahead of her looked striking and wonderful. Its lawn was bright and fluorescent green, its pavement was clean and held no litter, and the people situated in it seemed to glow with peacefulness. Amy smiled slightly and walked faster, eager to get to her destination.

When Amy reached the park, she headed for the nearest secluded bench. Her heels clicked repeatedly against the cement floor as she reached for it. Once she was sitting on the painted-brown bench, her thoughts wondered off once more.

How much of an impact would Ronnie make on Sara's life? Amy hoped none; she wanted those boys out of their lives as soon as possible. She knew her thoughts seemed selfish, but she knew the guys' influences wouldn't be good on her and Sara's lives. They've caused nothing but stress and arguments since they've arrived.

The Bryan guy didn't seem like such a nuisance, but Amy barely knew him. Omar and Robert weren't even so disastrous, but they were hardly there. On the other hand, Ronnie was a cigarette-craving rock star and Max was an overall piece of scum. What a joyous combination of male species.

Amy hadn't meant it when she told Sara she wouldn't stick around to watch her and Ronnie's relationship; Amy didn't like the guy, but she would never dream of ditching her friend. Not a chance. Especially with the likes of _Ronnie. _

Finally clearing all of her unanswered thoughts, Amy got up from the bench satisfied. As she starting making her way out of Grant Park, she was met with crowds of people again. Sighing, Amy turned into a more secluded street, one where she had her own personal space.

As Amy kept walking, a rough chuckle appeared beside her. She gasped softly as she turned to see the owner of the voice. Her stomach dropped and her hands grew moist with heat. Her heart seemed to thump right out of her skin. Standing a few feet away from her was a group of middle-aged men.

"Hey sweet cheeks. Why you out here by yourself?" asked the guy standing in the front of the group. A slight Yankee accent was present in his voice.

Amy shook her head and mumbled noises; her speech seemed to vanish. She slowly backed away from them, her wide eyes never leaving their mischievous faces.

In a normal scenario, horny men harassing an innocent female would appear old and completely filthy. This wasn't a stereotypical group though; they were well cut, had normal jeans and shirts, and held no evidence of facial hair. The horrifying appearance was in their eyes.

"Aw don't be like that babe," the guy in front said. "We don't hurt."

At this comment the men looked at each other and chuckled. Amy's saliva caught in her throat. She wished she had never left the safety of her apartment.

Amy shook her head in a dazed manner and she crossed her arms protectively in front of her chest; she felt naked.

"Don't leave, angel," the guy said, and like before, the other men grinned with misbehavior.

As Amy felt her feet move even more, the man in the front grabbed her arm viciously.

"I said don't _leave."_

As a scream started to erupt in the back of her throat, one of the guys to the right grabbed her shoulder, and lapped his other hand onto her mouth. She stared at him with terror and she started shaking hastily. She felt moisture on her heated cheeks.

"Aw, she's crying."

A man to her right went up behind her. She felt his large hands place themselves on her waist tightly. She felt his warm breath crawl against her collarbone. She smelled whiskey.

"We won't hurt you."

Amy let out a sob and shut her eyes forcefully. She could do nothing but shake her head in plead. She was surrounded left and right.

Another man from her left ran his cold fingers down her cheek, causing her knees to sway with weakness; it was not a good emotion. He leaned forward and stuck his lips onto her wet cheeks. With protection, Amy dug her heels into the side of his calf. He grunted with pain and annoyance.

"Shouldn't have done that sweetheart," he chuckled. His hazel eyes swam with anger.

Amy moved her body rapidly, trying to break free from the grips of the middle-aged men. The man with the hazel eyes grabbed her face, causing the other man to take his hand off of her trembling mouth.

Amy took this as her only spare chance; she screamed. A blood curling scream that seemed to explode from her mouth; she had used all of her energy. One of the men crashed his lips onto her smaller ones, causing her to heave with disgust. Hints of alcohol traced across her tongue. She felt as if she was going to throw up her stomach's contents.

And in a second, the filthy lips left hers and a rush of fresh air entered her mouth. She heaved a gust of breath from her lungs and she bent over, her hands on her knees. Her eyes were still shut tight with fear and it wasn't until she opened them that she seemed to have lost her sense of breathing once more.

Standing in the middle of the circled men with a deadly look in his light eyes, was Max. It had been quite obvious that he was perturbed; his hands were balled into trembling fists and his face was as still as a river in winter.

"What's the deal, jackass?" the man who had kissed Amy, had said.

Amy saw Max breathing out through his nose; his thin lips seemed sewn together.

"Didn't your mothers ever teach you to never touch a woman?" Max replied smartly, poison and sarcasm hidden in his voice. "Or were they pathetic like you?"

"Why you little—

The first man speaking was cut off by his companion on his right. "Cool it, Fred."

Fred turned to his friend with daring eyes. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't ring his neck."

At this point, Amy stood with wide eyes, unable to speak or move. This scene living in front of her presence seemed too surreal. Maybe she was hallucinating. Maybe she was still sitting on that bench in Grant Park, daydreaming about nothing. Unfortunately, Amy knew in her subconscious mind that this was real.

"We don't want the cops involved, Fred," Fred's friend stated. "If you get one spot of blood on that kid, you might as well book your next jail cell."

Fred grunted in disapproval but he backed away from Max. "You're lucky this time kid."

Fred and his "cronies" as Amy bluntly thought, started retaliating in another direction, finally leaving. Just before they were a few feet away, Fred turned and winked swiftly at Amy.

"Catch ya' later sweet cheeks. Maybe another time I can explore you a bit more."

At this perverted comment, Max leapt from the spot in which he was standing and ran at Fred with his arms extended a good length in front of him. His pierced lips were pulled back in a snarl.

Amy gasped and tried to pull him back, but Max was already sprinting full speed towards the grinning Fred.

"Max, _no!" _shrieked Amy, running in his direction.

At this point, she wished with all her might that she hadn't worn heels. She wished she lacked professional attire for just this one day.

As Amy was running jaggedly towards Max, she witnessed his pale fist colliding with Fred's perspired face. It then happened all at once. All of the men surrounding Fred tore Max's grip away, and proceeded into hurling him hits in random places around his body.

Amy let out a cry at this, and tried to regain speed. She hated his guts of course, but she couldn't let herself witness a cruel beating and just stand there. She wasn't that heartless. Finding it hopeless to run in her heels, she stopped rapidly, took them off with a yank, and then ran to Max's destination.

She hadn't planned out what she was going to exactly do once she reached him, so at this point in the situation, her mind went blank. The guys on the outside of the fighting circle saw her approach through their peripheral vision, and then turned to her direction with mischievous grins.

"Come to play dear?" one of them said.

Amy shook her head hopelessly, and attempted to slip into the circle where Max was being harassed. When she got to the point, she wasn't surprised to see the men ruthlessly outnumbering him in combat, but she was surprised to see that Max's actions kept up in toughness.

"Max, let's go!"

Without thinking, Amy hurled herself until she was right beside him. He snapped his head towards her and looked at her with agreement; he wanted to ditch as well. Giving a final groan, Max pushed the man that was off of him, and grabbed Amy's sweaty hand tightly.

Amy felt herself being dragged out of the circle uncomfortably. She had left her heels a few feet away and was now running bare foot on a street that could have many gruesome things on its cement floor. It didn't help that she wasn't used to athletic activity and that Max's hands were painfully clasped around hers; his fingers were sticky and hot.

As they ran onto the main street where many crowds awaited them, people gave them curious stares. Surely two teenagers running with petrified looks on their faces weren't a normal sight to encounter. It didn't help that Amy was barefoot.

"M-Max," Amy breathed roughly through her heaving chest.

He gave her no regard as he kept on running, his glance remained forward. And though his lips were barely moving; he spoke:

"What is it?" he replied curtly.

The snappy tone in his voice reminded Amy of the reasons why she detested him. Sure he had possibly saved her from rape, but those situations just don't change a person. Statistics didn't make that proof.

"C-Can we stop running? I-I can't even _breathe!" _Amy stammered.

Giving a mild eye roll, Max halted. Amy noted that both his and her chest were rising and falling dangerously fast. She also noted that he was still clutching her hand as if it were vital. Without saying anything, Amy snatched her hand back; glad the hot feeling surrounding it was gone. Max noticed her action, and coughed awkwardly, turning his attention to his vans.

Amy looked to her right and noticed they were situated in front of her apartment building. "What a coincidence."

Max smirked when her heard her comment. "Why did you think I stopped running?"

Amy turned to him with her eyebrow reaching her hairline. "Because I asked you to?"

Max snorted and shook his head. "Don't flatter yourself too much."

Amy began to speak but Max cut her off rudely by walking towards the lobby doors. The nerve of that guy. Before he grabbed onto the handle, he turned to her with malicious eyes.

"Hope you're aware that _you're _going to be telling them what happened, Amy dear."

Amy's mouth hung open like a damp cave entrance. "What? _Why?"_

Without a response, Max sneered and walked into the apartment building.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Amy trailed thoughtlessly behind the slag walking in front of her. He had is shoulders stiff on either side of his pale neck, and his head was tilted somewhat upwards, highlighting his arrogant appearance.

"Max!" Amy shouted angrily at him, hoping he would at least stop to listen.

He didn't cease his walking, but he did speak. "What is it?"

"Why do we have to tell Sara what happened. I mean, isn't it best if we just… forget the situation?" Amy said desperately, looking pleadingly at the back of his black hair, as if he could see her.

In an instance Max stopped. Amy had to dig her heels into the ground to stop herself from crashing into him. He turned to face her, a look of harshness perched on his pale features.

"You almost got raped by those fucking losers. You want to keep this from your best friend?" he asked, almost spitting out every word.

Amy's shoulders dropped suddenly, she took a step back from his hard stare. "You don't understand, Green."

"Oh? Then enlighten me."

Amy sighed and dropped her gaze to the carpeted hallway floor. "Whenever a terrible situation arises, Sara always gets bothered. She'll be in an almost dejected mood for days! And she won't stop asking questions…oh the questions. I'll feel like I'm in court."

Max crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You're telling me that you're keeping this from your best friend…to prevent her from feeling like a depressive maniac." He said it as a statement.

"Yes. It may sound ridiculous, but you don't know how she acts when something like this happens," Amy said, looking up from the floor to look at him. "Besides, it's passed. Let's just forget about this…forget it ever happened."

Max raised a dark eyebrow. "Shit like this has happened before?"

Amy's arms automatically attached to her hips, her hands were curled into fists. "That is none of your business!"

Max was caught off-guard by Amy's snappy tone. "Christ, chill. It was just a question."

Amy's chest was rising up and down threateningly fast. "I apologize. It's just…let's get to the apartment room."

Max's arms dropped sluggishly to his sides. "Alright, whatever."

"And," Amy started, her finger pointed in his direction, "no mention of this incident. Understood?"

Max rolled his light irises. "Yes, mother."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

Max turned around swiftly and started walking to Amy's apartment room. Amy walked behind him in silence, wanting to forget the incident which took place about thirty minutes before.

As Amy trailed noiselessly behind the tense figure walking in front of her, she recalled the past incident in her head, still remembering the numerous amounts of rough hands and coarse laughter. The thought caused her to shiver impulsively.

After a few minutes of broad tension had passed between Max and her, they arrived in front of her apartment room. Max gave her a swift, almost reassuring, glance. She gave him a nod to his silent beckon, and gestured for him to knock on the door.

"You knock," he said, backing away immediately as if the door was going to morph into some horrific creature and consume him.

"Dear lord," she said rolling her eyes in annoyance. "It's not going to bite you."

"I'm aware of that," he said in a defensive tone, gritting his teeth. "I just think it's more customary if you knock on your own door."

Amy let out a puff of breath she had been holding in when looking at him. Hesitantly, she raised her arm and knocked forcefully on the wooden door.

"See?" Max said, a crooked smile suspended on his face. "Not hard at all."

She was about to return his sarcastic statement with a retort of her own, but she was interrupted when the door opened. Sara stood in the door entry, a look of relief plastered on her delicate features.

"Oh Amy!"

Without warning, Amy found herself being engulfed in a limb-crushing hug. She felt her lungs spasm as their air entry was squished. Sara's lean but strong arms were grasping onto her, as if she were a life line.

"S-Sara!" Amy gasped, trying to pry her friend's tightening grip off of her. "L-Losing oxygen l-levels!"

Immediately, Sara leapt away from her as if she were electrocuted by an invisible force. She offered her an embarrassed smile and then proceeded to playing absent-mindedly with her nail beds.

"Amy, I was worried. You were gone for an hour and you weren't answering your cell."

"That's because my cell wasn't with me, dork. And I must've left it on vibrate, hence why you couldn't hear it."

"Oh," Sara chuckled lightly. "Where did you go anyway?"

Amy shrugged, as if displaying non-exiting news. "Grant Park."

Max coughed forcefully beside her. Amy had to restrain herself from jumping in shock; she had forgotten he was here.

"Oh, hey Max," Sara said, giving him a small wave. "What brings you here?"

Amy automatically jumped in. "I just bumped into hi—"

"I prevented this kid from getting harassed by perverts," Max said almost robotically.

"Max!' Amy hissed, giving his waist a hard nudge. "What the hell?!"

Sara's head snapped in her direction. "What?!"

Amy didn't reply for a moment; her mouth remained a gaping hole. Instead, Max decided to once again, join into the conversation uninvitingly.

"I was on my way to the market down the block, and I heard this blood-curling scream on one of the side streets. Of course, being the Good Samaritan I am," at this point Amy shook her head in incredulity at him, "I followed the yell and ended up seeing this kid," he gestured at her with a swift hand movement, "being surrounded by horny fucks."

Amy looked at Sara worryingly, awaiting her response. The diameters of her eyes were equivalent to saucers, and her mouth hung open in astonishment. In an instant, she looked at Amy with a venomous stare; her once subtle blue eyes now seemed like threatening tsunamis.

"Sara—"

"When were you planning on telling me this, Amy? This is serious shit!"

Amy sighed, knowing nothing she would say would change how Sara felt. "Sara, I didn't want to worry you. I know how you get when stuff like this happens. You become a fully different person! Almost similar to my mother," Amy said, shivering mentally at the last part.

Sara's eyes squinted drastically. "Worry me? Fuck, Amy you're my friend, my family! Of course I'm going to be worried!"

Amy let out another chuff of breath. "Sara, I know! I'm quite educated to know how friends care about each other. It's just...you get so...poignant. And it kills me to see you like that. You act like someone you loved was brutally murdered!"

"You could've been!" her voice slashed across like ice.

Amy looked down, now feeling ashamed and insulted. "Sara, please. I apologize for not telling you. But it honestly wasn't a big knot, things got resolved quickly, and I want more than anything to forget this. I just want to forget this, okay?"

Sara searched Amy's pleading eyes with observantly. "I'm calling the cops on those creeps."

"Sara, no!"

Sara and Max stared at her as if she was growing an extra head. "Why the hell not?"

"See, this is why I refuse to tell you some things!" Amy took a deep breath, calming herself. "Sar, if you call the cops, those slinks will assume it was me who sold them out. We'd all be in profound danger. They wouldn't hesitate to hunt us down and deprive us of our lives. I couldn't risk that."

"She has a slight point," Max mumbled, staring intently at his painted fingernails.

Sara sighed, defeated. "That's true. Fine, no calling of the authorities. But only because I don't want to risk anything happening. I can't afford a casket at this moment, especially with this damn recession going on."

Amy gave her eyes a roll, but a smile was shown on her face. "Good to know how committed you'd be to my death."

Sara responded with a grin. Max stood off to the side, almost studying the two girls. As if noticing his glance, Amy turned to look at him with a questioning expression.

"I just realized something. You came into the apartment with me. Why?" Amy asked with intense curiosity.

"Two reasons. One, I wanted to make sure you told Sara what happened. And two," he said, striding his way into Amy's apartment complex. "I was extremely thirsty and craving some soda."

Before Amy could snap, Max made his way into her cluttered kitchen. Amy looked at Sara and shook her head disbelievingly. "Can you believe him? Just making his way into a house as if invited."

Sara smiled. "He did save your virginity, and possibly your life. You could at least give him a Coke in return."

I nodded shortly in agreement. "Ah, you're right."

Without another word, Amy made her way out of the hallway and into her complex. Sara followed behind her, almost skipping. Amy looked at Max with sudden interest as he bent over to look at the contents inside her fridge. She noticed the way his back curved almost smoothly as he was hunched over. His arm, thin yet sturdy was clutching the door of the fridge –

Amy shook her head immediately, shuffling her random thoughts. Where did this sudden awareness come from? Surely, it was just the after-thought of her being rescued by Max. It was simply gratitude, nothing else.

"Amy?"

Amy was so tangled in her own mind, she almost missed her name being spoken. She snapped her head up to face the person calling her name; Max.

"Yes, Max?"

"I asked if I could quickly borrow your phone," said Max, giving Amy a strange look.

Amy nodded and made an approved motion with her hand. "Sure, go ahead."

While Max dialled and spoke to whoever he meant to call, Amy sat beside Sara who was seated at the kitchen table. As Amy was staring at her wall tiles in boredom, she felt a hand cover hers comfortingly. Amy looked up in surprise to see Sara.

"You sure you're okay, hon?" Sara asked, her snowy eyes melting with comfort.

Amy felt an over-whelming surge of emotion after seeing this kind gesture. She felt the lids of her eyes flood over with a salty substance. Tears. She looked down at Sara's pale hand on top of hers, and nodded in response to Sara's question.

"I...I'm fine now," Amy whispered, her voice growing croaky. "It was just...so frightening, Sar. I felt like I had no chance escaping. I thought of every horrible thing those men could've done to me, and I panicked. I couldn't speak. Couldn't move either. It was like being injected with insulin. Only, I felt the pain."

Sara's look of pity deepened. "They hurt you?"

"Somewhat. A few of them were clutching my arms tightly. I'm surely going to wake up with a few bruises tomorrow. And this one...this one bastard. Fred, his name was. He grabbed my jaw so hard, I thought it would surely break. And then...he kissed me. Oh Sar, it was revolting."

Sara gave Amy a light hug, rubbing her back soothingly. "It's my entire fault. If I didn't upset you this morning, you would've stayed in the room. You would've never gone out."

Amy looked at Sara seriously. "Don't you dare blame yourself for this nuisance. Besides, I'm fine now."

Sara scoffed sceptically. "You with your 'I'm fines'."

"Guys, do you mind if the dudes come over? They're decaying in that damn tour bus," Max said, holding the phone to his chest.

Sara looked at Amy with a hopeful look. In return, Amy sighed and nodded. "Fine, they can come."

Immediately, Max put the phone to his hear again. "Yeah, you guys can come...no Radke, you can't bring over your damn weed. I don't care how many withdrawal systems you're having, you should've smoked some this morning if you had to. No, don't smoke it now. I don't want you coming here as high as a fucking kite. Alright, later."

And with that, Max hung up the phone with an aggravated look plastered on his face. Amy looked at him with wide eyes.

"He was going to bring...drugs over?" Amy gasped, finding the air supply in her chest shorten.

"Chill, I told him to leave the little stash he has back in the bus," said Max, shrugging as if it were no mature subject matter.

Amy got up from the kitchen table, and went over to the living room, slumping down on her cheap leather couch. She breathed relaxingly and closed her eyes as she felt its cushy pillows calming her sore body. Not a moment later, she felt another body droop down beside her.

"It's been a long day, eh?" Max said, his eyes averted to the television, his face as still and strict as ever.

"It has."

"Monte, give me back my fucking Lays!"

"Come get it you piece of lard!"

Ronnie stopped dead in his stance, which consisted of him standing on the couch pillows, reaching out to the chip bag which lay mischievously in Bryan's hands. The rest of the crazed men of Escape the Fate had arrived at Amy's apartment. Amy, with great revolt, realized how much of a mess they were making in her once lean living room.

"Are you calling me fat?" Ronnie asked in shock, his face crumpling in mock melancholy.

"I thought you said you ditched the weed," Max said with a smirk, throwing his untouched bag of chips at Ronnie.

Ronnie snatched the bag of the Salt and Vinegar Lays greedily, shoving the sodium-contained snacks into his mouth. Amy had never witnessed a person consume so much food before.

"Shut it Green. I'm clean for God's sakes."

"Yes, I can tell by how much shit you're eating."

"It's called the glories of growing up! You know, as teenagers escalate in age, they crave food."

"Radke, you're twenty-three."

Bryan, now finding he could no longer torment Ronnie with the stolen bag of Lays, sat down beside Amy on the other couch.

"I heard you had a pretty intense day," Bryan said, munching on Ronnie's uneaten chips.

Amy looked at him with startle. "Who told you about today?"

Bryan, with his mouth full of chips, nodded towards the direction of Max, who was talking to Ronnie.

"That sneak," Amy hissed, getting off of the couch.

Before Bryan could ask her where she was going, Amy stalked off towards Max. When she approached, Max immediately stopped talking to Ronnie and looked up at her with a cocked eyebrow. "May I help you?"

"Can you inform me, as to why you told Bryan about what happened today?"

Max shrugged, unaffected. "It's Bryan, dude. Who's he going tell?"

"That's not the point! I wanted today's events to be forgotten; never repeated."

At this, Max stood up so he was a few inches from her face, his light eyes boring into her dark ones. "You sure get bothered too easily."

Suddenly, all the frustration and exhaustion Amy had been experiencing that day crept up on her like an unwelcomed stranger. She let out a low growl from the base of her throat and charged at Max with lightening speed.

He let out a heave of breath as Amy knocked him to the floor, her hands digging into each of his shoulders.

"What the hell's wrong with you?!"

"You are! You are what's wrong with me!"

Max rolled his eyes once again as she straddled him dangerously. "My point is once again proven."

Amy loosened her grip on him. "Which is...?"

"That you over-analyse things."

Before Amy could speak in response to his accusation, the room went black; as dark as a flock of crows.


	5. Chapter 5

**Catastrophic Accident Indeed, Max Green**

**Chapter 5**

Amy felt her heart drop considerably fast as she took in her surroundings. Blackness. It seemed the once dimmed living room was now coated with an opaque dark sheet of paint. She quickly pulled herself off of Max, who breathed out in relief, and stood up.

"What the hell just happened?" Amy asked, as if her company would magically know the answer for the sudden darkness.

She heard Max get off the floor with a pronounced grunting noise. "It's a blackout smart one."

Amy glared at him, though she knew through the darkness he wouldn't be able to see. "I know that. It just doesn't make any valid sense. There's no storm taking place outside!"

As the words flew out of her mouth, she heard a pair of scuffling footsteps going towards the large window in her kitchen. After a few seconds, she heard the scraping sound of her curtains being pulled apart.

"Shit," she heard Sara mumble. "It's too dark outside to tell."

"Perfect," spat a voice so rough it could only be Ronnie. "Just when the game was about to start."

Amy controlled the urge to send an unneeded retort. "We'll figure out a way to get the lights working again, Ronnie."

Amy heard Bryan's optimistic voice chirp. "Can't we call an electrician or something?"

Amy nodded, and then forgot he wouldn't be able to see. "Yes, that sounds like a good idea."

She then heard somebody picking up her living room phone off of its receiver.

"Um, you are aware that if the lights are out, my house phone won't work," Amy stated in an obvious tone.

She heard Sara chuckle with embarrassment. "I forgot."

Amy smiled slightly at her friend's innocent mistake. She then lifted her hands in front of her for guidance as she slowly and cautiously made her way around the living room. It didn't take long for her to accidently bump into someone's stone-built chest.

"Ah sorry!" she gasped in surprise, feeling her pulse speed up.

A low chuckle grumbled from the person she bumped into. "Not a problem."

Amy could tell from the deepness and almost aging sound of the voice, that it was indeed Robert. "I'm trying to find my cell phone."

She heard a scatter of movement coming from Robert's direction in front of her. He then spoke. "Put your hand out."

Hesitantly she moved her arm forward, palm facing upwards. In an instant, she felt cold metal touch the inside of her clammy hand. She quickly clasped her fingers around it, relieved.

"You can use my cell for a second," Robert said charitably. "Hurry though; I don't think I have many bars left."

"Thank you," Amy said in an appreciative manner. "It shouldn't take too long."

She quickly flipped open the phone, almost crying out with relief when its main screen shone a bright luminescent light. She could see only objects near to her, but she was grateful that she was able to see them at all. Then, remembering about the phone call, she hurriedly dialed the electrician's easily memorized number. She tapped her bare foot patiently on the hardwood floor as the dial rung several times.

"Hydro Company of Chicago, how may we be of assistance?" the female receptionist said in a professional tone.

"Hi, I'm calling regarding a blackout that just occurred in my house," she spoke, not entirely sure of what she should first say.

"Where do you live, ma-am?" the woman spoke, no urgency hidden in her voice.

Amy detested people who called young adolescents "ma-am." It made her feel incredibly old. "I live on 1216 Sherbourne Avenue, Suite 416."

As Amy held the phone to her ear, she could heart the receptionist on the other end, typing rapidly on her computer keys. She heard a scuffling of papers and file cabinet drawers for the next few minutes. Just before Amy's impatient meter was going to start boiling, the woman on the other line spoke.

"Ah, I see," the receptionist said, exhaling with what sounded like, exhaustion. Or perhaps it was boredom. "There seems to be a black out in your area, ma-am.

Again with the ma-am. "But, there weren't any weather disturbances today," Amy protested.

She heard the receptionist sigh again. "A wire might've been pulled or broken. The pigeons this time of the year are quite feisty."

Amy blew the carbon dioxide out of her mouth. "Do you know how long it'll take before the power returns?"

Once again, Amy heard the shuffling of items on the other end. "Probably about an hour or two. At the most."

"Wonderful," Amy said with detest, squinting her eyes shut.

"I advise you to grab as many flash lights as possible, and to test the light switches now and then."

"Thank you," Amy droned, not liking the idea of staying in complete darkness for two hours.

After Amy snapped Robert's phone shut, she sighed loudly. Everybody's whispers around her ceased. She put a hand to the side of her temple, pressing down in circular motions. Amy, a female who hated the sight and sound of the musicians, was now forced to spend hours with them…in total darkness. God knew what they could do to her apartment…or her. She mentally shook her head. Now she was getting unnecessarily paranoid.

"Robert, thanks for letting me use your phone," Amy said, trying to feel around the dark room to find Robert. Unfortunately, like the previous time, she found herself bumping into him inelegantly.

"I should really stop doing that," Robert said with a short chuckle at the end. Amy knew if she were able to see him, a tight smile would be shown on his toned face.

Amy found herself lightly laugh in response. Was she actually having a decent conversation with one of the Escape the Fate men? She found it hard to believe at first, her mind was always one of complete stubbornness. Slowly, she reached to find Robert's large and slightly rough hand, and when she did, she lightly placed the cell phone into his palm.

Without saying another word she turned in the direction in which she hoped was where the others were situated.

"Where are you guys?" she asked, feeling suddenly idiotic.

"Couch," a chorus of grunts replied. Amy smiled, relieved to know that they were sitting down, instead of walking around blindly, possibly bumping into her delicate furniture.

Slowly and cautiously, Amy staggered helplessly to find where the couch was located. She could hear Robert following closely behind her. In a few moments, her leg collided with what she thought was the arm rest of the sofa, and she found herself falling over it, and onto a seat- erhm- someone.

A high-pitched shriek escaped her mouth as she felt herself collide with a pair of denim-legs. The unfortunate victim made a loud uncomfortable grunt sound as her weight smashed with theirs.

"Fuck Amy," the victim said with a voice that sounded too high pitched to be normal. "I think you disoriented my spleen."

In an instance, Amy rebounded off of them. "Shit, I'm sorry Bryan!" Amy felt around in front of her for his shoulder, which she comfortingly grasped. "If you may not have noticed, it is a bit of a nuisance to see right now."

She heard Bryan chuckle with lightness. "Yeah, I noticed alright. But…my spleen still hurts a bit."

Amy raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what do you suppose I do?"

"I'm sure a simple kiss could make the pain disappear," Bryan spoke, his voice slightly rising with his excitement. Amy knew Bryan was grinning proudly at this moment.

"I'm sure it would," Amy replied in a low voice, attempting with all her might to sound the least bit seductive.

She slowly leaned forward, trying to find Bryan's face. She cursed the blackout, for this would be much easier without it. As she tilted frontward, shortening the distance between her and Bryan's figure, she could feel his warm and staggering breath on her face. He was getting aroused. She placed her other hand on the round of his thigh, and bent forward towards his face. Slowly, ever so slowly, she placed her mouth directly beside his ear, leaving trail marks of her breath against his cartilage.

"Your spleen is under your ribcage," she whispered hoarsely. Immediately she felt his body stiffen under hers. "No where near where I fell on you."

She laughed suddenly, and got off of him, proudly smiling now herself. "You men are too easily captivated."

She then felt around the couch more cautiously this time, attempting to find an empty seat. When she found one successfully, she plopped down.

"I could say the same for you women," Max said with a certain fierceness. Amy could distinguish his voice anywhere; even in complete obscurity.

"At least," Amy began, playing with her fingernails. "We can control our hormones when we wish."

She heard Max scoff in disagreement beside her. She felt the couch shift momentarily as she felt his body turn towards her. "You're telling me, that you women can just make your horny-ness disappear whenever you want? Like an on and off switch?"

Amy found herself smiling. "Exactly."

Another scoff was heard from Max's direction. "Yeah, and dolphins can do algebra."

"That's a new one to me. Usually, people prefer to say 'and pigs can fly.'"

"I stopped using that expression a while ago. People have been saying it for ages now; I'm sure it's been proven somewhere in the world."

Amy let out a shout of laughter in spite of herself. Quickly, she slapped her hands to her mouth in surprise.

"You think I'm bull-shitting," Max said, as if it were a true fact.

"You're definitely a special case, Green," Amy said with an unnoticed smirk.

A moment of tense silence passed through the room after her and Max's conversation. This was the only moment of the day in which Amy was thankful that there was a blackout; she couldn't imagine being able to see the expressions of the others right now.

"Guys," Bryan exclaimed randomly. "I'm fucking hungry!"

"Who's a fat lard now?" Ronnie said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

Amy heard a light object being flung across the room. Then an "Ow!" was heard from Ronnie's direction on the couch.

"Shut it Radke, I haven't had dinner yet," Bryan replied with a whine.

"Yeah, neither have I," Sara exclaimed from somewhere in front of Amy. Amy's body twitched in shock and surprise; she didn't realize Sara had been standing so close. "Amy can you be a darling and cook us something?"

Amy heaved a great deal of air out of her mouth. Sometimes she wondered if her best friend had any brain tissue whatsoever.

"Sar, you know perfectly well I can't cook anything with the power not working," said Amy, sighing.

"Oh," Sara said, giggling with embarrassment. "Right."

Amy heard Bryan sigh a bit too dramatically beside her. The other males in the room seemed to have followed suit. Even in the lightless room, Amy did not hesitate to roll her eyes.

"What happened to the chips I gave you guys before?" Amy said, nervous of the answer.

"Don't know," they all said in unison.

"Come [i]on![/i]," Amy exclaimed in frustration, throwing her hands up in the air. "I just cleaned this damned living room three days ago and—"

"OW!" a shrilling voice echoed from the kitchen area. "Oh fuck, ouch. [i]Shit[/i]."

Instinctively, Amy rebounded off of the couch. "Sara? Sara where the hell are you?"

A few clattered noises were heard from the kitchen, followed by a deafening bang. "OUCH!"

Immediately, Amy put her hands in front of her, to guide herself as quickly as possible to the kitchen area. Her bare feet were slowly sliding across the smooth hardwood floor of her living room, and she prayed mentally they would soon touch the coldness of the kitchen tiles.

Amy heard a few grunting noises which were mixed with cries of sudden pain.

"H-Hurry Amy. Please," Sara winced loudly.

Amy was relieved to hear that she wasn't too far from her. Amy picked up her pace, and her warm feet soon kissed the top of the cold kitchen floor. However, as Amy was striding towards the sound of Sara's heavy and uneven breathing, a pointed object struck the bottom of her heel.

Amy swore loudly and gripped the bottom of her foot. As her hand trailed along its surface, she felt a hard piece of material; glass. Thankfully, no blood was shown evident on her foot.

"Sara, what the hell happened?" Amy said as she finally reached her friend.

She grabbed onto Sara and wrapped her shaking arms securely around her. "Sar, are you alright?"

She felt Sara's trembling head nod against her shoulders. "I was t-trying to get to the fridge, and I stepped on something that was glass. A-Almost like a vase."

Suddenly, Amy tried pondering all the possible glass objects she held around her kitchen. She had a vase yes, which was always filled with purple orchids. However, she always had it placed in the centre of her kitchen table. What was it doing on the floor?

Amy heard loud steps creeping closer and closer to where her and Sara lay on the kitchen floor.

"You guys okay?" a coarse voice asked from out of the dark room. "Sara, love, are you alright?"

All of a sudden, Amy felt a pair of rough hands touch either side of her cheeks, his thumbs doing circular motions around their smooth surface. Amy gasped in complete shock and let go of Sara. She put her delicate hands on the male's arms and slowly detached his hands from her face.

"Ronnie, you idiot. This is Amy, not Sara," Amy breathed with irritancy. Though, she could hardly blame him; the room showed no evidence of any objects. Even with her night vision adjusting, Amy could hardly make out any figures in the room.

Ronnie coughed animatedly. Amy sighed and grabbed one of his arms, placing it on Sara's tear-streaked face. "[i]That[/i], is Sara."

Amy got up off of the floor, leaving Ronnie to comfort Sara. "Sar, where exactly are you hurt?"

She heard Sara's trembling voice reply. "W-When I stepped on the vase, the glass pierced my foot and the bottom of my leg. I think I pulled a m-muscle when I slipped on it."

Amy cursed under her breath. "You need to go to a hospital. And now."

Suddenly, she heard Bryan's voice from the living room. "We can't take her out of here. And they sure as hell can't come up here."

Amy stormed into the living room and stood in front of a silhouette sitting on the couch. "What the hell are you talking about?" She's [i]hurt[/i]!"

She heard him sigh in front of her. "Listen, it's pitch black in this apartment building. It'd be too dangerous to carry her down the stairs."

Amy's heart seemed to fall a good three feet inside her. Bryan was absolutely right, but how was she going to find help for Sara?

"Okay, listen," Amy announced to the rest of them. "Ronnie, lay her down on the sofa. Yes, that means Bryan, Max, Omar and Robert need to get off the couch. Bryan and Max, go together into my bathroom and try to find the gauze, it should be in the medicine cabinet."

"Why do I have to go with him?" Bryan asked in a childish whine. "He'll probably murder me in this darkness."

Before Max could harshly respond to Bryan's words, Amy spoke. "It's too risky if you guys are separated. We don't want another sudden accident."

With a sigh, the guys started walking towards the bathroom. Amy could hear their footsteps slowly residing with distance.

"Alright, Omar I need you to [i]carefully[/i] go into the kitchen," Amy said warningly. "Do you have shoes or socks on?"

"Yeah," he responded immediately.

Amy nodded with satisfaction. "Good. When you get there, find the fridge and grab an ice pack. Then, stay with Ronnie and place it over Sara's ankle. That should tame the swelling for now."

Straight away, she heard Omar make his way to the kitchen. Finally, she turned and found Robert's lofty silhouette. "Robert, you and I are going to go down the hall and try and tinker with the light generator. Hopefully, we can get it to work."

"Sounds good," she heard Robert reply.

"Alright, let's go," Amy said, suddenly feeling as if she were on a dramatic mission. Almost similar to those in the Indiana Jones novels. In a way, she was on one.

Putting her hands in front of her once more, she made her way slowly to the front door. When her palms met with the jagged wood, she trailed them slowly down to grasp the cold metal of the doorknob. She flicked the lock, and turned the knob.

As she stepped out of her cozy apartment, her eyes were engulfed in a sea of more black.

"Crap, it's creepier out here," she heard Robert state from behind her.

She swallowed in agreement to his comment. "Scared, Ortiz?"

"Never," he whispered, leaving trails of breath at the cape of her neck.

Amy jumped, startled. She hadn't realized he was so close. "L-Let's go. We need to find the generator."

She heard Robert grunt in what sounded like "okay."

With her hands placed on the rough hallway walls, she glided through the hall. Her feet moved slowly, one after the other. The hallway never seemed so long to her, until this night. All of a sudden, her hands ran over a square of metal; the generator.

"I found it!" Amy whispered to Robert.

As soon as she spoke those words, she felt Robert stand beside her. "How do we get it to work now?"

Amy sighed. "My dad showed me once. Incase I was ever to be in a situation much like this one."

"Smart man," Robert said.

Amy felt herself nod. She let her fingers trail along the metal until she felt the generator's handle. Immediately, she pulled it. The generator door swung open, and she placed her fingers on all its numerous switches.

"Alright, we need to try and find the switch for this hallway."

"How are we going to manage that?" Robert said with despair.

Without answering his lingering question, she had an idea. "There are ten rows of switches going vertical and horizontal. Each row must represent a floor in this building. So, all I have to do is find the fourth row of switches, and test them out."

She heard Robert let out a gush of breath. "You [i]are[/i] too smart for your own good. Max was right."

In an instant, she snapped her head to what she hoped was Robert's direction. "He told you that?"

"Yeah," Robert said, almost in a bored manner. "Then again, he always has to comment on everything."

"Got that right," Amy said with malice. "He's such a little pri---"

As the words were about to fly out of her mouth, Amy felt a pair of dry lips collide with hers. She gasped against Robert's lips as he gently placed his large hands on either side of her waist. At the moment Amy, couldn't find herself protesting nor responding. Her mind was on freeze mode.

She soon felt Robert back her against the generator switches, which dug uncomfortably into her back. She made muffled sounds, but all it did was make her lips make motion with his, making Robert think she was responding willingly. At this, Robert snaked his arms around to her back, and smoothly pulled her body against his.

The warm air coming from his nose met her face. This swift feeling consoled her without reason. Without thinking, she raised one arm and slowly made it travel up to his shoulders. Her other arm she propped up beside her, making it collide with a few switches.

In a moment, the lights sprang back to life.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Amy's dim-vision eyes had to adjust to the light that now danced around her and Robert. She found herself squinting in the powerful light, being used to darkness for such a long period of time. Slowly, Amy felt Robert remove his hands from her waist, his fingers leaving soft trails along her skin.

"What just happened?" Robert asked, in total shock.

Amy turned to look at the generator behind her. Some of the switches were bent upwards, where Amy accidently had touched them before.

"I must've flicked the right ones on," Amy said, still touching the switches lightly. "When we, you know…."

In an instant, Amy heard pounding footsteps quickly approaching her and Robert. She snapped her head to the direction of the galloping sound, to find Bryan rushing towards them. A remarkable grin was perched on his face.

"Guys, the power's working!" Bryan exclaimed, clapping his hands rapidly in excitement.

Amy raised an eyebrow at him in amusement. "We've noticed."

Bryan's grin turned to one of embarrassment. "Yeah, well…"

"Amy did it," Robert announced, flashing a smile to Amy's direction. In return, she sent him a deep blush. "She managed to flicker with the right switch."

"How'd she do that?" Bryan asked, amazement and curiosity etched on his features.

"Funny story, actually," Amy said, looking immediately at the floor, one of her hands placed on the back of her neck.

Just as Bryan was about to say something, Ronnie's hysterical voice echoed from down the hall. "[i]Guys, get the fuck over here!"[/i]

"Sara," Amy mumbled, her eyes wide with worry.

Without a moment's hesitation, she sprinted down the hall towards her apartment complex. When she reached her room, she hurriedly made her way towards the living room. There, she saw Ronnie and Omar surrounding Sara on the couch. With the available light, Amy was now able to see Sara's wound that surrounded her foot.

There was a deep gash cut across from the bottom of her foot all the way to the peek of her ankle. The deep red jagged line resembled the numerous street lines found on a map. The thought caused Amy to shiver. Sara looked weak, and most of the color had left her face. Her blue eyes which usually held life, held exhaustion. She had lost a good amount of blood.

"Shit," Amy muttered, rushing to her friend's side.

Amy noticed that Ronnie was holding Sara's hand in comfort, his other hand rested on her forehead; an icepack underneath it.

Amy kneeled directly beside Sara and grabbed her other hand. "Sar, it's going to be fine. The lights are finally working; we're going to get you to a hospital."

Sara nodded sleepily in response. That's when Amy noticed something. She suddenly looked down at Sara's badly cut foot and gasped. The wound, she could still see it.

"[i]Max and Bryan![/i]" Amy shrieked with fury.

Instantly, the appeared beside her.

"Where the hell is the gauze?!" Amy asked, turning to face them with fuming dark eyes.

Without a response, Max held out his pasty hand in front of her. In his palm, lay the peach-colored roll of gauze. Amy snatched it out of his hand and gently took Sara's foot.

"Honestly, were you two born with enough brains to know that you had to wrap it [i]around her injury?[/i]" Amy asked in deep anger.

"Hey, we're no medical experts," said Max, his green eyes pouring daggers into hers. "Besides, we thought you were going to do it."

"Technically, you only told us to get it from the medicine cabinet," said Bryan, appearing somewhat guilty.

Amy forcefully stopped herself from saying anything back to them as she slowly started unwinding the thick gauze. After it was unraveled, she leisurely started wrapping Sara's foot in it, satisfied to see the strong material covering up her friend's wound. When it was fully covered, Amy took the safety pin from one end of the gauze and carefully put it through the other end, holding it in place. She was careful not to prick Sara's skin.

After patting Sara's foot reassuringly, Amy stood up. Without speaking, she made her way to the kitchen and plucked the phone off of the receiver. She quickly dialed the emergency number. What she heard next made her stomach clench. Or actually, what she [i]didn't[/i] hear. There was no dial tone present.

"You've got to be kidding me," Amy groaned. She turned to the others who wore looks of confusion. "There's no dial tone. The phone lines must not be up yet."

As soon as she finished speaking, she turned to Robert. "Can I borrow your cell again? Please?"

His eyes lingered on hers momentarily before he nodded and dug into his pocket. He grabbed the silver device and handed it to her. When she reached for it, she couldn't help but notice how his finger tips rubbed with hers for a little too long. Hastily, she snatched the phone and started dialing 91—

"Damnit!" cursed Amy, almost dropping the phone with rage. "Robert, your phone just[i]had[/i] to run out of batteries, didn't it?"

A look of panic and regret washed over Robert's tanned face. "Crap, sorry Amy. I told you the bars were low."

Amy sighed and handed him back the phone. "What are we going to do now?"

"We could always carry her there."

Amy snapped her head towards Max. "Max…that's actually a good idea."

His eyes which usually held venom now seemed to turn into surprise. "Really?"

Amy nodded with excitement. "The hospital is only a few blocks away. I'm sure some of you guys can carry her."

Ronnie immediately stood up, pride and a toothy grin were shown on his face. "I'm there. I'm sure another strong guy can help me carry her. You know, only if I can't handle it of course."

Amy rolled her eyes.

Bryan stood up and approached Ronnie with a matching grin. "I'll help!"

Ronnie snorted, his eyes holding skepticism. "I said [i]strong[/i] guy."

Bryan shoved Ronnie's head to the side. "I am strong, you bastard."

Omar got up and stood in between the two quarreling young adults. "I'll help Ronnie."

Ronnie's grin got wider and he patted Omar's shoulder. "Thanks man."

Amy went over to Sara on the couch. She had started looking better in health. Some of the color returned to her face, and her eyes seemed more present. Though, sweat was still matted to her light hair, and she still appeared exhausted.

"Sar, you can limp on one leg right?"

"Sure can," Sara said, a small smile playing on her lips.

Amy smiled back warmly. "That's my girl."

Amy turned to Ronnie and Omar. "Alright, Ronnie she's going to lean on you with her right side. And Omar, she'll lean on you with her left. Each of you, put one of her arms around your shoulder, and then with one of your arms, support her back. Got it?"

Instead of nodding, the two males held blank looks.

"Oh honestly," Amy sighed.

She made her way over to Sara on the couch. Amy reached out her arms fully, so Sara could grasp them and get up easily. When she was up, Amy put her arm around her shoulder and supported her waist. Instantly, she turned to the faces of Ronnie and Omar.

"Like this," Amy said, nodding her head towards her position with Sara. "Easy as pie."

"Hey," Ronnie said, making his way over to the two girls. "Pie is a very complex form of dessert."

Amy couldn't resist rolling her eyes at the comment, but a hint of a smile was shown on her lips. Slowly, Ronnie removed Amy's arms from around Sara, and placed his arms around her instead.

"It's going to be alright," Ronnie whispered into Sara's ear. "We'll be there in no time."

Amy had to give him some sort of credit for consoling Sara under such circumstances. Ronnie had his moments at some points. Though, she couldn't quite say the same for some of the others. Actually, for [i]one[/i] of the others.

Soon, Omar had joined Ronnie in helping Sara walk without much difficulty.

"Alright," Amy announced. "Let's go."

Amy grabbed her red coat and her keys which were situated on the coffee table in her living room. After shutting off all the lights in her apartment, she unlocked her front door and opened it swiftly. She gestured with her hand for everybody to get out first; they obliged. After everyone was out of the apartment, Amy looked one last time into the dark room space, and closed the door behind her. She pulled out her key with the "416" charm on it, and locked the door with a [i]click[/i].

"Do you think the elevators are working yet?" Max asked looking hopefully at the silver elevator doors.

"Only one way to find out," Amy said approaching the elevator.

She trailed her fingers on the numbered buttons and pressed down. Amy waited, praying that they would light up or that the elevator would make a sudden grunting noise. But as countless times before, her mental wish was not granted.

"Shit," she heard Bryan say from behind her.

Amy sighed heavily and ran a hand through her muddled hair. "To the stairs we go."

She walked in front of the group, heading to the staircase at the end of the hallway. When she reached the door, she opened it. The staircase seemed dark and sinister this time of the night. The cemented steps held shadows of different shapes and forms. The air running through it, Amy noticed, still smelled of pot and alcohol.

"Gross," Bryan winced. "It smells like shit here."

"You think he'd be used to it," Max mumbled under his breath. "Having Ronnie around with his drug mart."

"Hey now!" Ronnie spat from behind, still holding Sara. "I resent that statement."

Amy groaned. "Guys, stop getting distracted. We have to get to the hospital."

With much difficulty, they started descending down the dark and narrow staircase. Numerous amount of times, Amy found herself bumping into Bryan and Max, with Ronnie, Omar and Sara trailing slowly behind them.

"Can you watch it?" Max spat at her, as she knocked into him for the fourth time.

"It's kind of hard to," Amy snapped back. "Light isn't exactly present here."

"Guys shut it," Bryan whispered. "The pot smell is giving me enough of a headache. I don't need another one."

Amy agreed with Bryan's complaint, and she kept her mouth shut. Finally, after it seemed like dozens of minutes had passed by, she was met with the brilliant crisp air of the Chicago streets. She heaved a sigh of relief as the smell of stale drug use was left behind.

There weren't many vehicles roaming the streets this late into the night. Most of the convenient stores on the stretch had neon signs which shun the word "[b]CLOSED[/b]." The air seemed a few degrees cooler than it had been that very day. Amy adored the night atmosphere. It held a lively yet peaceful mood which wasn't usually met with during the day.

"Amy?"

Amy turned her head to the voice's owner. Ronnie looked at her, his face pinched into what looked like discomfort.

"How far away is the damned hospital?" he asked.

"Only a few blocks, Ronnie," Amy said.

"Shit," he mumbled under his breath.

"Am I that heavy?" Sara asked, a grin of foolery displayed on her lips.

"Just a tad," Ronnie replied.

Sara's hand which was behind Ronnie's shoulder now rose to smack the back of his head. He grunted as he shot her a glare.

"I was kidding hon," Ronnie said, placing a swift kiss on Sara's currently blushing cheek.

Amy couldn't help but break out a smile at the two young adolescents. Amy's mind took a sudden spin, lurching her into other thoughts. What if the men of Escape the Fate were not present with her and Sara tonight? How could her and Sara possibly have survived the terrible blackout? If it weren't for Ronnie and Omar, Sara would have been more ill. If it hadn't been for Robert, the light switches would have never worked. Amy owed these men for once; she was aware of that.

They continued walking in silence for about half an hour. Amy's feet were starting to prickle with exhaustion, but she knew Ronnie and Omar were probably more uncomfortable supporting Sara. Amy noticed, with great satisfaction, the large blue letters of the hospital, which read [b]Sunnyside Hospital[/b].

"We're practically there," Amy said, a smile placed on her features.

"Thank God," Max said, his eyes holding irritancy.

Was that male always so miserable? Amy seemed to think so.

"What an original name," Max snorted as he saw the name of the hospital.

"Can say the same for your band," Amy mumbled, hopefully low enough so he couldn't make out her words.

"What was that?" Max asked, his eyes appearing almost daring.

"Nothing at all," Amy said, putting on a false smile.

When they reached the hospital, the automatic sliding doors at the front swung open for them as they entered. Amy was met with the smell of sickness and stale food as she approached the lobby.

"I hate hospitals," she announced, her face wrinkled.

"So does the world," Max replied.

"Do you always have to put your smartass comments in?" Amy asked, frustrated.

"It's my well known occupation," he said.

"Guys, we need to get a doctor and now," Ronnie replied, looking eager.

Amy nodded. "That, we do."

They managed to reach the elevators, and when they entered, it was filled with tension. The elevator's box was far too small to fit them all, but they managed it. Currently, Amy was mashed up against Max's chest, a position she highly wanted to get out of. When the elevator doors opened once more, she nearly bolted out of them.

As the others followed her, Amy approached the front lobby where the head nurse was working. As they approached, the nurse looked up with measuring eyes.

"May I help you?" she asked.

She was a young woman, estimating around the age of her late twenties. She had golden hair which was tied up in a strict bun. Her eyes, which were studying the Escape the Fate men, were green and harsh. Much like another person Amy knew.

"Yes, my friend has a foot injury," Amy responded.

The nurse continued to stare blankly at her. "And?"

Amy's heart started racing, she could feel her face warming up with temperature.

"She has a [i]foot injury[/i]! It's very long with a deep gash and was caused by broken glass. Did I mention she [i]pulled a muscle[/] when she slipped?! She needs assistance and medical treatment and she needs it [i]now![/i]"

The nurse stared at her with an open mouth; clearly she hadn't expected Amy to be so…demanding. The guys, including Sara, managed to stare at her in surprise and awe. Suddenly the nurse picked up her phone and rang in the doctor.

"Didn't know you had such guts," Bryan joked, nudging her shoulder.

"When it comes to the people I care about, guts are all I know," Amy said with a slight smile.

Soon the doctor came to the lobby. He was an older man yet very tall and sturdy. He had a full head of gray hair which was lengthy and tied into a low pony-tail. His name tag read [b]Louis[/b].

"If your friend can follow me, I will take her to a room," Louis said, his eyes going over our group.

"Thank goodness," Sara said.

"You're all with her?" he asked in disbelief.

They all nodded in response.

"I'm afraid only two people at a time are allowed to be in the room," he said. "However, I need to check her injuries while she is alone. You'll all have to stay in the waiting room."

Amy sighed and nodded. "Alright."

In a moment, the nurse from the front desk approached them with a wheelchair. Sara looked at it skeptically before sighing. Ronnie and Omar slowly helped her get into it. She looked at Amy, a look of pure nervousness etched on her face.

"You'll be alright love," Amy said, giving Sara's shoulder a swift squeeze.

Sara nodded and smiled gratefully. "I guess I'll catch you later."

"We'll be waiting here," Amy said.

Soon, the doctor had taken Sara into the secluded room, leaving Amy and the other guys waiting tiredly in the waiting room.

"You guys don't have to stay if it's too late," Amy said, sitting down on an available chair. "Don't you have a sound check or something tomorrow?"

Ronnie grinned and sat down beside her. "We're not going anywhere."

"Besides," Bryan chirped in, "we don't have any shows scheduled until next week."

Amy nodded. "Thank you; all of you. For everything."

There was a slight silence after she said those words. Then she felt an arm sling around her shoulder. She turned to her left to see Bryan with a huge grin plastered on his face. "T'was not a problem m'lady."

Amy laughed. After a few minutes had passed by, Robert got up to get something from the cafeteria. The whole time Amy was waiting, all her thoughts could turn to was Sara. She wondered if her friend was in any discomfort. She certainly hoped not.

Soon Robert returned with six ice cream sandwiches. One he kindly gave to Amy, offering her a reassuring smile.

"Thank you," she said lightly, unwrapping the ice cream.

Amy knew as soon as she bit into the cold dessert, something was terribly wrong. It tasted almost tangy on her tongue. Without warning, Amy could feel her throat tightening incredibly fast. Her breathing quickened dramatically.

Amy shot her hands to her throat, the ice cream falling on the floor.

"Amy are you alright?!" Bryan exclaimed, grabbing onto her arm.

Amy felt herself losing oxygen.

"What the hell is happening to her?!" Max shouted, looking frightfully at her face.

"She's having an allergic reaction!" Ronnie exclaimed.

"To what?!" Bryan yelled, still holding onto her.

Robert took the ice cream wrapping paper off of the floor, and showed everyone the cautioning nut symbol.

"Peanuts."


End file.
